Love Me Scarlet
by ValRocks
Summary: Heather Marlow, sixteen, appears in Hogwarts with no memory and is sorted as Severus Snape's apprentice.


_This starts in the Triwizard Tournament year. I hope you enjoy!_

_DISCLAIMER: Only going to say this once. I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to the series, excluding this fanfic, Heather Marlow and other non-canon characters._

* * *

The moment that Heather woke up, she felt that something was off. The bed underneath her stiff body, the light filtering in through her closed eyes, even the air she breathed in seemed all too strange.

Somehow, she knew she shouldn't be there.

Not wanting to open her eyes, she stretched her arms out. Some bed space on either side, then air. And then, on her left, something large, round, knobby and covered in several layers of fabric.

She opened her eyes a bit, at first not understanding. Then, looking higher, past the... knee... she saw a man with long, pitch black hair and perpetually pale skin. Maybe, if she hadn't been so surprised to see him, she would have cursed her sleepy eyes for not letting her get a better look at him before she jerked her hand away and rolled to the other side of the bed... only to land on the floor with an audible thump. Swearing under her breath, she sat up and rubbed her eyes.

Blinking a few times, Heather looked at the man sitting on the other side of the bed.

Wow. World's largest man-bat hybrid.

Grudgingly, she decided he was okay-looking, what with the piercing black eyes, expressively large nose and a sculpted mouth.

Okay, he was a-bit-better-than-okay looking.

Those dark eyes met hers for a second, but the staring contest that would have probably ensued was cut off as both of them looked over to a large doorway, in which another, much older man stood, chuckling.

"I see our guest is up, Severus? I hope you didn't give her too much of a scare." the man said, walking over and taking a seat on Heather's bed.

"She is fine." replied the dark-clad bat in a smooth, velvety voice. Heather frowned, standing up from the floor - that accent should sound familiar. Someone else spoke exactly like that. Or a bunch of someones. Problem was, she couldn't remember.

That brought her mind to an almost complete stop. Was there _anything_ she could remember?

Gasping, she sat down hard, bouncing a little on the bed.

"Are you alright?" asked the old man, concerned. Same accent. Same unrememberable accent.

"As hell." she whispered. Turning, she looked back and forth between the two men, eyes big. "Where the fuck am I?"

* * *

Half an hour later, Heather still sat in the infirmary, completely dumbfounded.

According to the old man - Professor Dumbledore, as he introduced himself - she was at Hogwarts, a school that specialized in teaching frigging magic. Dumbledore had told her more, but most of it she didn't hear. She was too busy trying to process the first few sentences that had come out of his mouth - "Severus found you on school grounds, unconscious. The house elves and Madam Pomfrey did their best to patch you up - I am told you were quite... ruffled."

The bat-man, Severus, just sat there and listened, watching with interest as Heather's pale face changed to various shades of sickly colors and she went through rounds of nervous habits - patting her jeans pockets (looking for cigarettes?), combing her fingers back through her hair, rubbing her forehead, shaking her head.

She figured at least one of the trio was completely loopy, be it her or the two 'Professors'.

Dumbledore continued talking. "Now that your question has been answered to the best of my capability at this moment, would you be so kind as to tell us who you are?"

Heather blinked. "I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I can't remember."

"Nothing at all?"

"No... well, my name. Heather Marlow. I'm seventeen."

Dumbledore sighed. "Perhaps Professor Snape can help you with your amnesia, but later. We don't have much time before the students arrive." Seeing Heather's frown, he smiled. "Yes. The students are coming today for a new year at school. Severus, would you be so kind as to tell her how you found her? I have matters to attend to."

Dumbledore was almost out the door when he turned. "Heather, would you please take a seat tonight, for the time being, with Professor Snape at dinner? Just in case. Ask him about it. I'll have the elves get an extra chair for you to sit on."

With a stern look at Severus the clearly said _be nice, _Dumbledore disappeared down the hall.

After a brief silence, Severus spoke. "I happened upon you this morning, unconscious at the top of the Astronomy tower. It was very... surprising." he drawled, face expressionless but for a slight quirk of one eyebrow at the end. Heather grinned. He was, in a way, captivating.

"Do I amuse you, Miss Marlow?"

"Slightly."

"How so?"

"Dunno."

"Well then, until you do know, please keep it to yourself."

Heather grinned broader. Just her type of person - wonderfully fun to annoy.

Oh. So she had bits of memory, after all. She sighed.

"Sorry, um, Sev. I'm still... ugh... Professor Dumbledore mentioned something about a table?"

Snape had tensed at the nickname. Through clenched teeth, he quietly growled, every word soaked with venom - "Do not. Call me. That."

Heather raised an eyebrow at the effect it had on him. Impressive. Taking note of the name's effects, she decided to save it for later use.

"Oo-kay, sir, Professor, sir! So... Dubledore said...?"

"Today happens to be the day that the students arrive."

"Cool, when?"

"That will be in approximately half an hour."

Looking out of one of the huge windows at a beautiful landscape, cast into high contrast by the sun's setting rays, Heather guessed - "Dinner?"

"A welcoming feast."

At the words "Dinner" and "Feast", Heather's stomach growled loudly.

"S'cuse me."

Snape didn't answer, he just kept looking at her in that unnerving way.

_Guess he isn't much of a conversationalist._

"Miss Marlow, if you require to clean up before dinner, I recommend you do it now. The lavatory is that way." He pointed to a door at the far side of the empty infirmary.

Nodding thanks, Heather wandered over to the door. Now that she thought about it, she didn't even really know what she looked like.

Seeing her reflection in a mirror didn't bring any flash of recognition. In fact, she didn't feel anything at all as she studied herself. Brown eyes. Dyed dark red, wavy hair that came down below her shoulders and all around her head in a big mess of locks. Pointy chin. Plump lips. A kind of wide-eyed stare. Smudged heavy black liner, even more smudged hair-matching lipstick.

She was much skinnier than normal, with a cool figure, mostly. Tight-fitting black jeans covered in tears and a billowy black peasant blouse. Huge black leather army boots, a silver tree pendant, an eyebrow piercing and two small silver hoops with beads in each ear. Dozens of bracelets on her right hand, and a clock on her left.

Washing off the worst of the makeup mess, she studied the numerous tiny veins showing through her skin - under her eyes and eyebrows, along her jaw line, spanning across her temples. The paleness was even worse than Snape's. Her left eyebrow was cut right through, and the scar looked old. Scanning her skin, she saw more scars, scabs, scratches, patches of dirt and whatnot. A lot of the tears in her jeans looked genuine.

Overall, she decided it was a good enough looking face and a nice body. Heading back to Snape, Heather wondered just what kind of rabbit hole she had somehow fallen into, and whether there was someone here to guide her out onto more stable ground.

* * *

As Snape led her to the dining hall, Heather looked around with huge eyes. At one point, when a cute boy in a painting waved to her, she jumped away... only to crash into Snape and have him scowl down at her. Again. He was at least a head and some taller than her, and she found it to be so _demeaning._ She knew she was taller than most girls her age, and that she was not used to being looked_ down _at.

"Sorry, Snapeykins. But did that painting just move?"

"Yes. Try to refrain, in the future, from overreacting so openly."

"I wasn't overreacting! That painting waved at me! Paintings do not move!"

Snape just kept walking, cape billowing out behind him, leaving Heather to trot in his wake.

She didn't stay quiet for long. "Why can't I just sit with the students? Why the staff table?"

"The students are all divided into four houses. Seating you with any one house would be presumptuous. As for why the staff table... I do not know. Professor Dumbledore often has his own reasons."

"Strange. This whole thing is strange, strange, strange."

"Well noted."

Heather beamed up at him, only to receive another scowl in return.

"Say, Professor, why are you such a happy, smiley and sunny person?"

"You... are too outspoken for your own good."

"I know, and I enjoy it wholly."

Finally, they stopped at a huge oak doorway. Peeking inside, Heather grunted. Big.

"It's a room, Miss Marlow. You're to go in."

"Oh, really?"

Walking between the four oak tables, they came to one that was raised on a platform, perpendicular to the others. Severus took a seat on the far right, motioning to a beautiful chair (which, she saw, was nothing compared to what some of the other adults were sitting on, specifically Dumbledore's golden throne) on his left for her to sit in.

Taking a seat, Heather received a lot of curious glances from the other adults.

Gulping, she realized just what was happening: she was in a strange school-castle, which apparently was magic, with some strange-looking people in robes staring at her. And she had no memory whatsoever.

"Um, sir Snape, sir? How far does this magic thing expand?"

"Everywhere."

"Aha. So... you can do magic?"

Snape, looking smug, took out some stick and waved it in the air. The golden plate in front of Heather levitated, then morphed into a perfect gold sphere, and then slowly trickled down to rest on the table, a plate once again.

Heather, mouth hanging open, gingerly reached out and prodded the plate with a spoon. When it stayed a plate, she picked it up and twirled it on her fingertip. Still a plate. Snape smirked.

But something told her that objects changing shape wasn't new, and neither was the concept of the magic stick - the wand.

Where she would go after this? Back to the infirmary? But she wasn't hurt. Student dorms, or wherever they slept? She asked Snapeykins.

"That is for the sorting hat to decide" he replied, nodding toward the worn hat on the stool. "If you have magic in you, it will sort you into a house. If not.. well, if not, you would not have been here."

Heather didn't want to start annoying him just yet, so she kept quiet about how she felt with basically entrusting her fate to a ratty-looking coned hat.

* * *

"And now, last but not least... Heather Marlow."

She stood and strode over to the stool. Everyone stared at her as she took a seat and waited for the hat to be placed on her. When it did, she _felt _it trying to look into her mind.

"Ah, an interesting case we've got here... no memories at all? Well, maybe that's for the best, with your ugly past. My, my... probably not fit to be in Gryffindor- too sly... and not quite fitting for Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, either. Slytherin! But..."

Some whispers broke out in the room in front of her.

"Hmm... let's see. You know, it's been a while since we last had an apprentice. I just don't think it wise to put you with the students."

Behind her, Snape narrowed his eyes, not liking the way this was headed. The students in front of Heather were clearly confused.

"What's an apprentice?" She hissed. No one had mentioned it to her!

The hat sounded smug. "That's for your future master to explain."

_Master._ Not misstress. Heather gulped.

"I hereby declare you apprentice to... Severus Snape!"

For a few seconds nobody said anything. Then, behind her, someone clapped. The students picked it up half-heartedly, still clearly confused.

When Heather was seated back in her place, next to Snape, who was looking on the brink of spontaneously combusting, Dumbledore got up and made a speech. Heather paid no attention to one word of what he said. Something about a tournament?

"I believe you are all confused by Miss Marlow's case. Yes, it has been many years, more than a century or two, since we had an apprentice. But it has happened. An apprentice is something of a student, with only one teacher. The teacher's job is to prepare them for taking on, later in life, as either a replacement for that teacher or a helper. Of course," he added, as an afterthought. "If they want. If not, they will have the standard seven years of education, but with only one Professor. We wish you luck, Miss Marlow."

More murmurs.

Dumbledore said good night and sent the students to bed. The staff table remained sitting.

Turning, he smiled. "Good night to you all as well. Severus, Heather... a word?"

Once the robed figures had all left, murmuring quietly to each other, and the three of them were the only ones left in the enormous room, Dumbledore gestured at the doors. "Walk with me."

They walked.

"Traditionally, Heather would have to have a room adjacent to Professor Snape's"

"But," he continued, cutting off Snape's complaint, "in our times I think it's better that Miss Marlow have a room for her studies merely sharing a wall with Severus, and for living be placed in the Slytherin sixth-year girls."

Heather frowned. Mr Sunshine 24/7 would have been much better than a bunch of girls. Or not, whatever.

* * *

Severus stormed away, having said goodbye to Dumbledore and seen the old man turn off into a separate corridor. Heather jogged to catch up to her teacher.

He wondered just how much of a mess the Sorting Hat had gotten him into. He didn't _need_ a helper... well, maybe except when it came to grading endless essays, quizzes, and reports. And detention. And... _blah! I was perfectly fine on my own, without some insufferable girl bugging me at every turn._

"Remember the way to the Slytherin dorms. And remember the password for getting in. It changes often, without a schedule, all of my accord.

After numerous turns in endless corridors of dungeon walls, they stopped at a completely identical bit of dungeon wall and Severus hissed something Heather had no hope of understanding. The walls parted, and they went into an empty, gorgeous room. The ceiling was made of glass and seemed to be holding back water - a lake? A huge fireplace glowed with a dying fire, surrounded by couches heaped with tons of pillows. The tile floor was an intricate pattern of snakes. The whole room was mostly black and green, with occasional shots of silver. Heather whistled. "Impressive."

Severus said nothing and walked to the fireplace, throwing in an extra piece of wood to keep the warmth coming. Heather walked over to a couch with the most pillows and collapsed, face-first. In a second, there was an outraged _mrrrp_ and something light and four-legged jumped onto Heather's back.

"What the..?" Heather murmured, already half-asleep, although the black leather clock on her left wrist said that it was only half past ten. She turned over, and soon the cat jumped onto her chest. The thing was dirty, horribly thin and overall battered. Generally speaking - much like Heather.

It hissed at her, and then started licking her face and purring. Heather grinned. "I guess I know you... Mary?"

The cat purred harder.

Severus was still standing by the fireplace. "That cat was with you when I found you. That was last night, around one in the morning. Gave me hell when I gave her and your things to the house elves and took you to the infirmary."

"My things?" Heather asked in her slightly crackly voice. Definitely a smoker.

"Yes, you were lying next to a backpack and a suitcase. They are in your dorm."

"Great. What exactly do you teach?"

"Potions."

Heather sighed. Why did he have to be so... meh.

"What kind of potions?"

"All kinds of potions."

"To do what?"

"Anything."

"Make someone taller?"

"Yes."

"Bigger?"

"Yes."

"Kinder?"

"Occasionally."

"Sick?"

"Yes."

"Healthy?"

"Yes."

"Alive?"

Severus paused. Why would she need that, especially since she couldn't remember anything?

_Stop it. You're being paranoid._

"No."

"No? Awww, bummer." Heather sighed, and in a much quieter voice continued. "What about my memory?"

"What about it?"

"How can I get it back?"

"There are several potions we can try. But not today."

"Tomorrow?"

"Perhaps."

"Please?"

"Perhaps."

Heather sighed once more, refusing to quiet down despite the professor's attitude.

"So what do I do, tomorrow? Am I your first apprentice? Is it hard? Fun? Interesting? Are you always so grumpy?"

"Maybe if you slowed down, I would be able to answer you. You are my first. It's hard._ Fun_, I don't know. Not likely. Interesting. And what ever gave you the impression that I am grumpy?"

"Oh, nothing. Just your definitely oh-so-un-grumpy way of carrying yourself, the 'get it wrong and I kill you' look, maybe some other things..."

Severus scowled down at her, and she grinned.

"You still didn't tell me what I'll do tomorrow."

"I will make several potions for you to try. Although some of them need days, even weeks to make. So not all at once."

"Too bad. Not having my memory sucks. I wonder where I lived? And did I have a boyfriend? And what did my parents look like? Do I even have parents? I look homeless. Do I even have a home?"

"Quite obviously, I do not hold the answers to your questions."

"True. So what do these potions taste like?"

Severus groaned inwardly. This was going to be a long year. "Go to your room. Through that door, left side corridor, right turn, one flight up the stairs, second door on left. Be quiet." he said, sour.

Without another word, he strode out of the room, and the walls slid closed behind him.

* * *

_By the way - this is a rerun of my old fanfic, written over that. I hope to improve it a lot._


End file.
